Flesh
by OdairBear
Summary: Clove has always had problems, but this time they go deeper than they ever had. When she gets admitted to Woodbridge Hospital , her life will change forever. What happens when she meets a certain blonde boy with anger management issues and bipolar disorder? She'll have to come to terms with the fact that someone is eventually going to break her tough shell and this could be it.
1. Chapter 1

Almost everyone can think of at least one way to kill themselves. I have at least twenty, today though I have the perfect opportunity to finally kill myself the way I want to. My mothers in the hospital after suffering a blood clot, she had ankle surgery the week before the blood clot happened making her hospitalized and immobile-Those two things aren't related though-She's drugged up insanely and while she was home for her post-ankle surgery recovery she had a few bottles of oxycodone, but now that she's in the hospital they supply It for her. Last night I slipped one into my backpack, considering all these medications she's taking, she'll never notice if a bottle is missing. I check once again to make sure the drugs are still inside and leave for the bus stop as I normally do.

There's 150mg total in the bottle and it's only a matter of time before it's all inside of me. I rush to my bus stop as the bus is early today so I scuttle along to pavement to make it before the doors of the vehicle close. The rainfall is fast, coming down in large glops of liquid, it dampens my hair to the root much to my twisted pleasure. The rain is my favorite weather so it puts me in a content mood despite my revolting intentions.

I sit in my seat, the only one on the bus occupied by a single being. I stare out the window and watch in displeasure as we cut through the wealthier neighborhoods in the area. All the houses are beautiful and I hate it, because I'm unreservedly jealous.

Life isn't fair, it never is. People who have advantages and opportunities always reign supreme over everybody else. Honestly I've never been one to be fortunate enough to have a ray of sun bestowed upon my dreary life. Always having the remnants of missed opportunities presented right in front of my face. At least I understand that it isn't my fault. It's always going to have been my parent's, it's their fault that they never pushed me in anything. I long so badly for parents who would support me in my endeavors and even push me further in them. My mother never enrolled me in a dance program or sports when I was a child and my father always went along with it, reasoning that they couldn't afford it.

It took me fourteen years of my own determination to find out what I love to do. A lot of trial-and-errors along the way of course but regardless I know that I love dance more than life itself. So it's quite obvious as to why I'm so upset with my parents. I'm good at dance right now for only having danced about a year, but just imagine what I could be if I would've started at an even younger age. However that's just another missed opportunity because there's nothing I can do to change the fact that I'm never going to be good enough to reach my full potential as a dancer.

The bus pulls into the school lot and my solemn expression remains on my face. I walk into the arts building and make a beeline towards the sketch bathroom in the back of the auditorium. I enter it and survey the perimeter considering the fact that I don't want any interruptions. I take out the can of red spray paint in my bag and thanks to my artistic nature, I'm somewhat of a natural at painting so I write in neat handwriting on the wall, 'you led me to this.'

A little bit dramatic, I know, but I've always been one to have a go big or go home attitude. I tape copies of my suicide note, I look over it proudly. I took the liberty of typing it up in Times New Roman, size twelve font, double spaced, five pages, double sided. I go into one of the bathroom stalls and lock the door. I take out my cell phone and consider calling my mother, but decide to deter that thought because it'd just risk ruining my plan.

I take out the pills and swallow all 150mg with a bottle of water I kept in my back pack. I know it's going to take a while for the drugs to kill me so I take out a razor to partake in my favorite past time. I cut into my skin lightly with the first one, then leave a couple more wounds. They grow deeper and I continue. At this rate I'll die quicker of blood loss than from the drugs.

I move on to my other arm, or at least attempt to. I can't really though because my other arm has grown limp. I let all of my blood drip onto the bathroom floor and I hear the door open. I almost let out a scream but I have enough restraint not to. I hear a scream but it's not mine, it's the person who opened the door. She must think I'm dead, I make a mental note not to move in the slightest bit. I hear the little pitter patters of her footsteps run away and then the door slams shut behind her. I try to fall asleep with my head in my lap so I'll be dead by the time anyone has found me. Due to my early morning exhaustion the task is easier that I thought, within seconds I'm out like a light.

I wake up to the unpleasant disturbance of the stall door hitting my head forcefully. My eyes groggily open but I shut them quickly again as the light hurts my eyes. I hear people talk about me but the voices are dulled out by my thoughts. Two security officers, or at least that's who I assume they are, lift me up and place me on a gurney. I lay down on it and try to rush the slow but sure process of dying. I hear the school nurse try to speak to me but I ignore her. They shine a flashlight at my eyes and I ignore it despite how annoying it is. I get rushed into the back of a truck and I already feel them bandaging up my cuts. I want to tell them to stop but I'm too weak to utter a single word.

I guess my cuts were pretty deep because I'm sure as hell the oxycodone isn't working this fast. It happens all too slowly let all too quickly, but soon my world turns black.

When I come to my senses I'm in a hospital bed. I'm informed by the nurses that they pumped my stomach, gave me blood transfusions, and stitched up my cuts. What a fucking miracle. "Would you like to see family members dear?" the nurse asks me.

"No," I say firmly. I don't want to ever see my parents again. I don't want to see their overly concerned faces and most importantly I don't want pity from them, I don't want pity from anyone. I'm a disgrace to my family anyway, it's not a big deal though because as soon as I get out of here I'll just try to kill myself again anyway.

"Okay then, well I must inform you that you're going to be undergoing a psychiatric evaluation so you'll be going to be leaving this room." I say nothing knowing that I obviously have no say in this. I stand up only to sit back down, I feel insanely lightheaded and like I could faint at any given moment. The nurse obviously notices me struggling to get my balance so she leaves and brings back a wheelchair, I get up and sit in the wheelchair she offers me, even though I desperately want to get out of this thing and run away I know there's no way in hell that I'd even make it out the hospital doors, partly because someone would stop me and partially because I can barely stand up, let alone walk.

I am led to a room with two comfortable looking chairs and I am asked to sit down in one, I decide not to cause trouble by doing what is asked of me. "Dr. Morgan will be with you momentarily," The nurse informs me. I expect someone old with a monotonous voice, but what I get is the exact opposite. A young female doctor probably in her late twenties or early thirties .  
She glances down at her clipboard and looks up at me, "Hello Clove, I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions?" I look at her an expression of boredom and rolls my eyes slightly, "sure go for it."

"What are your sleeping patterns like?" she starts off with. The question produces a small smirk from me, "I sleep a lot, definitely more than the average person."

"Describe your personality to me?" I grow kind of sad at the thought of this question, at first I'm unsure how to answer it but eventually I decide on the most accurate answer. "Irritable, bitchy, annoying, and self-destructive." She doesn't even furrow her eyebrows at my answer yet she gives off a more than confused vibe, "So you're aware that you're destroying yourself?" I laugh cynically, "Of course I know I'm destroying myself, even if I didn't cut I'd still be destroying myself whether it be physically or psychologically, it's all because of the standards that society creates for us as human beings. The standards for beauty and success are outrageously high and eventually even the people who achieve the most believe that they are less because someone else has more. It's really screwed up actually."

"You describe yourself as annoying, why do you think that?" She asks which I respond with, "I don't think that, I know I am. No one likes me I don't have any friends because of it."

"What's your appetite like?" She asks making me twitch without being aware of it. "I don't eat, er… I eat as much as I need to survive without dying." She looks at me sadly "Have you lost or gained any weight in the last two weeks," she asks causing me to scoff, "Sadly no I haven't lost any, nor have I gained." I think back to last night when I weighed myself, 102 pounds and I still feel too heavy.

"How many times have you attempted suicide?" She asks causing me to recall all the horrific events, that should've worked but didn't. "Including this time? Six." She looks at me suspiciously almost in disbelief that I tried to kill myself that many times.

"Do you get anxious often?" She says while looking up from her computer. "Very, even over insignificant things."

"On a scale of one through ten, with the being the highest and one being the lowest, how depressed do you feel you are?" "Eight"

"Well I think you're a definite ten. What we do in cases like this, or at least what I like to do, Is have you admitted to Woodbridge Hospital. You can get help there as long as you choose to make the most of this opportunity, don't take this for granted. Now, I'm going to have you dismissed to wait in a holding room while I talk to your father for a bit."

"My father is here?" I ask astounded that he'd even care about me enough to come here. My parents are divorced and my dad's a hard alcoholic who has a very slim chance of getting better. He kind of scarred my childhood from the moment he said "I love this wine more than I love you," and he raised his glass to me. I haven't been on decent terms with him since. He got a new wife plus three dogs and a step-son to go with her. I feel as if he's forgotten about me entirely considering that he's never tried to make amends, and that's why I am utterly shocked to hear that he would've taken his precious time off of work to come save my mother the trouble of dealing with this, not that she could even if she wanted to.

I stare at the ground the entire time she's talking as she's rambling on about some nonsense that doesn't interest me in the slightest bit. I don't want to wait to be taken away to further wait to be shipped off to some mental institution. I don't even want to go to a mental hospital. I don't even want to be _here _on this earth. I don't belong, I never have. I don't have any potential anymore and any that I might have had have been crushed by limitations whether it be financially, emotionally, mentally or physically. People with no potential don't make it in life, they just wind up being drug addicts like my brother. I mean _sure _he's in rehab right now trying to get better but I highly doubt any success will come out of it if he moves back to live with us in DC. He'll just be surrounded again by all of his drug-dealer friends which won't help his recovery at all. Honestly he just needs to stay down if Florida if he wants even the slightest chance at succeeding.

A male nurse comes to the room and escorts me to the separate holding room, which is literally just a room with a couch, magazines, and a water cooler. There's absolutely nothing in here that I could harm myself with but they still have the nurse watch over me. I lay down on the couch and flip through a magazine out of boredom. It's an issue of us weekly from 2008, _wow so current._

After about an hour the nurse opens a door and another enters with a wheelchair which they put me in. They carry me out to my father's hummer and put me in the passenger's seat. My father joins me out in the car and we don't even exchange greetings. He puts an address into the GPS and off we go to… Somewhere.

Somewhere ends up being my apartment, which my dad takes me up to and tells me to pack enough clothes and toiletries for two weeks. No make-up, perfume, scented lotions, or clothing with strings in them, shoes included. I pack five pairs of leggings, two pairs of yoga pants, and four pairs of Nike shorts. I pack four dresses, eight oversized sweaters, a bunch of tank tops. A few old camp t-shirts, a plain black hoodie from American apparel, and six different bras along with a shit ton of underwear. For shoes I grab my grey cable knit Ugg boots, my tan Ugg slippers, my Minnetonka moccasins, and a pair of rainbow brand flip-flops. Then I throw in a few pairs of socks for good measure. I run to my bathroom and throw deodorant, toothpaste, my toothbrush, a hairbrush, shampoo, conditioner, my retainers, and my Neutrogena pink grapefruit facial scrub into my bag.

I probably over-packed but it's better to have something and not need it than the other way around. We head out to the car and my dad carries down my two suitcases considering I'm still extremely light headed. I grip onto the railings as if my life depended on it I get to the bottom of the stairs and my father helps me into the car. I mumble a low, "Thanks." I don't talk to him after that.

"Believe it or not Clove, I love you. You are my daughter after all. I'm sorry for what I've done to you. I've been sober for a year, so I realize I haven't treated you right and I really am sorry," he says which only angers me more. It makes me wonder why he couldn't have gotten help when he was with my mom, maybe he never loved her and they would've gotten a divorce even if he was sober. Oh well, what's done is done but I know that if my mom knew he was sober it would hurt her even more than it hurts me. I don't speak to him for the entire car ride again


	2. Chapter 2

We arrive at a place called Woodbridge Hospital. When we get inside my father has to talk to the receptionist about admittance or something so I just sit down and read a pamphlet about eating disorders out of boredom, but I know I shouldn't because it might trigger me into taking mine to another level. I've actually exceeded my goal weight by a couple of pounds and I love it because I can see my hip bones and collar bones. I genuinely think they look beautiful and I wouldn't change my appearance for the world. I put the pamphlet down and pick up one about depression. I go down the list of symptoms and I match every single one of them. My father comes and sits down next to me.

After waiting for about thirty minutes a lady emerges from a room and says, "Clove Sevina?" My father and I stand up and walk over to her, she leads us into a room where they take my picture and have us complete a bunch of forms after that I'm led into a room where they do another room but there they ask me about high risk behavior such as drug use, sexual activity, and stealing. I answer no to every question. I've thought about using drugs but my dance always stops me. I want to have sex but no boys even make an effort to talk to me so sex is out of the question. Then stealing for me is only taking to occasional Northface jacket from the lost and found but that's justified because if their stupid enough to loose a two hundred dollar jacket then they deserve to have it taken from them.

They weigh me and I can tell the lady is displeased with my weight. After that a nurse leads me up to the fourth floor which is the adolescent unit. "Clove, we'll be placing you in Group A, there's three different groups but you mainly get to stay with your own group unless you're in D.D. or S.I.B…" I normally would keep quiet but I'm curious now, "what are those?"

"Dual Diagnosis and Self Injurious Behavior; Dual Diagnosis is for patients who have a mental illness that coincides with alcoholism or drug addiction, and self-injurious behavior is for people who burn, cut, any self-mutilation really. They're both groups that meet every day in addition to group therapy." She leads me to another room this one has a cozier feel to it with the crème colored walls and the hardwood floors. "Any more questions before I give you a run down on all the groups and activities you have?"

I shake my head no and she continues with a small speech, "So you'll be assigned a social worker and a psychiatrist. Your social worker will be responsible for communicating with your parents and holding family meetings. Your psychiatrist will help you work through your problems and emotions then they'll help find you a medication that works for you. For extra activities we have yoga, Art therapy, music therapy, movement therapy, and we go out to the sports court to play games sometimes. Yoga's pretty self-explanatory as far as activities go. Art therapy is where you either have task art or free choice where you express your feelings through your art and then at the end you have a discussion about it. Music therapy is where you can just relax, the music therapist here, Mrs. K, just brings in a bunch of instruments and you basically just play and sing songs. Movement therapy is your choice you can either dance or workout but you have instruction none the less. Then when it's warm out we'll take you outside and there we have basketball and volleyball courts."

"A typical day here at Woodbridge is like this, you wake up at seven, take your morning medicine, get weighed, etc. then you have a morning town hall sort of thing where you do body checks, give safety levels, and make goals for the day. After that a nurse will come in to take vitals, then you guys have time to work on your treatment based goals, draw, write, color, read, whatever you want really, then you have breakfast downstairs, but since it's your first day you'll be eating upstairs. Now for meals if you have an eating disorder you can be placed on meal monitoring or bathroom monitoring. For meal monitoring you eat upstairs and a nurse just checks your dish to make sure you've eaten everything and if you haven't they give you an Ensure which basically just ensures that you've gotten all your proper vitamins and nutrients for that meal. For bathroom monitoring you basically just can't use the bathroom until an hour after you've eaten but however for an emergency you can sing while in the bathroom while someone stands outside the door. After breakfast you come up to the lounge and have social work group for an hour which is where one of the social workers come into a group and you talk about goals, school, and obstacles they can help you work through. After that you have one of the extra activities such as music therapy, art therapy, and etcetera."

"After your morning activity you have another town hall type meeting where you all check in once again by doing body checks and giving safety levels followed by group therapy. Then if you're in S.I.B. group you meet before lunch, but if you aren't in S.I.B, it's room time where you can sleep, shower, or read but you can't write because you aren't allowed pens in your room. After that you have lunch down in the cafeteria and after that you have school for an hour and a half, but don't worry it's pretty much dumb school and on Friday you play games. After school you have an afternoon activity group then after that is D.D. group or you just hang out in the lounge. After that you have group therapy for an hour, followed by dinner. After dinner is visiting hours where your family and friends can come and visit you. After that it's movie time where everyone decides on a movie to watch, during that is call time and evening meds. Then it's bed time at nine thirty."

"I don't think I was able to follow you entirely…" I mumble slightly. "Don't worry the schedules posted outside on the whiteboard oh and by the way my names Effie, if you need a hairbrush, extra blankets or pillows, toothpaste, feminine products, soap, shampoo, conditioner, pretty much anything just stop by the nurses' station and I'd be happy to help you out."

"Thanks," I say and she smiles warmly at me. Normally I'd be annoyed that someone was extending so much kindness to me but she seems so genuine I can't hate her. She escorts me to the Group A lounge. I nervously grip the sleeves of my forest green cable knit sweater I changed into while I was at home.

I sit down in one of the plush chairs in a lounge when a man who works here approaches me, "You must be Clove, I'm Brutus, your group leader. I have to do a routine body check so do you mind pushing up your sleeves?" I start shaking anxiously but I do as he asks anyways, he sees all of my cuts but he seems unfazed by it despite the fact that there are still stitches in them."

"They're fresh, from this morning?" he asks and I nod. "So right now a lot of the kids are in S.I.B. group which you're going to be in, and today you have the option of joining but you don't have to, but after today you have to go. If you decide not to go to S.I.B. group it's room time for everyone else so you can go to your room and get situated if you would like."

"I want to go to my room," I say and he shows me the way to my room which I share with two other girls. One of them is in there right now. I make my way into the room without saying anything and the girl just looks at me. "Hi I'm Clove," I say trying to make friends with her. "Hello I'm Annie," she says stuttering a bit. "Sorry," She says apologizing for nothing. Even though I don't know what she means, I still do in the same sense. I feel the same way sometimes, that I bother everyone with my presence. "It's fine Annie, I'm not going to judge you…" I say hoping to ease her anxiety just a bit.

"Really?" She says staring at me with her wide dark green doe eyes. She seems lovely but somewhat bedraggled. I instantly feel bad for her which is strange because I normally don't pity people. "Really," I say back.

She smiles then closes her eyes and covers her ears. I look at the desk next to her bed, she must have been here for a long time considering how many books she has, she must have a hundred. I may have to ask her if I can borrow some because things are probably going to be pretty boring around here.

I look for a blanket and pillow but I don't have one so I go down the hallway to the nurses' station. Effie hands me two of each and I thank her. I go back to my room and make my bed. I open the drawers under the bed and all of my clothes are neatly put away. I look up at Annie and she's looking at me expectantly, "Did I do an okay job? Normally they just dump the clothes on the bed but it was bothering me so I put them away for you…"

"Thanks Annie, I appreciate it," she smiles at me. "You're welcome Clove," she says and she lays down on her bed and covers her head with a pillow. I decide to put the toiletries on my desk away, such as putting the shampoo, conditioner, and soap in the shower. I organize everything and brush my teeth. I already did it this morning but my mouth is really dry for some reason so I figure that it can't hurt.

I brush my hair and reapply deodorant. I lay down in bed and try to get some shut eye but as soon as I fall asleep a staff member bursts into our room. "Is Clove Sevina here?" she asks and I sit up in my bed. "I'm here to take your blood," she says and I furrow my eyebrows. "I just got blood transfusions today can you do it tomorrow?"

"Oh wow I wasn't aware of that. Let me check your admittance record. I'll be right back," she says scurrying off and I fall back asleep. About thirty minutes later she bursts in again making no effort to be quiet, "You're right but I'll be back in three days to come take them have a nice day."

At five thirty Brutus comes in our room to gather us for group therapy, Annie and I walk down the hall together and I finally get a decent look at all of the other patients here. We start the session when I hear a yelling from down the hallway its Brutus, "Cato get your lazy ass out of that damn bed!" He says showing no pity for whoever he's talking to. I watch as a large blonde figure emerges from the room and walks down the hallway towards our lounge. "God, I should've realized you weren't at S.I.B. group," our group therapy leader, Enobaria, says. Cato rolls his eyes and sits down in a chair furthest away from Enobaria even though there's an empty seat next to her. She invites him to come sit down next to her but it's not so much as an invitation as it is a command. He does as she asks and she seems content with his compliance. "Okay so welcome everyone, again like I said earlier my name is Enobaria and I'll be running group therapy today. So it seems as if we have a few new faces so I'd say we should have them introduce themselves." She looks expectantly at me so I avoid eye contact hoping she'll move onto someone else. I look back up at her and she's still staring at me. "Okay fine, my name is Clove."

"Why were you admitted today?" she asks. I get somewhat nervous but speak none the less, "I tried killing myself."

"Can you be more specific?" She says and I look down at the ground before looking back up at her. "I tried killing myself at school by overdosing on an entire bottle of oxycodone but it didn't work so I tried slitting my wrists but they gave me blood transfusions, pumped my stomach, and stitched me up so now I'm here because they expect me to get better."

"Why did you try killing yourself at school?" she digs a little deeper. "Because it's where the roots of all my problems are and I already had a book written that I wanted my parents to publish after my suicide that would make people realize the errors in our education system. I wanted to kill myself to make a change. Because no one listens when you're still alive, the only way to get almost everyone's attention is to kill yourself." Everyone looks at me as if they're expecting me to say more but they don't.

"Thank you for sharing Clove," she says and they move onto the next new patient. "My name is Katniss, I'm in here for trying to kill myself because of money issues."

"Okay, what's the real reason you tried killing yourself?" Enobaria pushes. "Okay, so my father died in a mine explosion a while back and our mother went into a depression and now we can't afford anything so I don't want to starve to death so I figured I'd just kill myself. But then Child Protective Services came and took over as me and my sister's guardians so they're paying for my treatment. SO basically I didn't want to starve to death and I want to be reunited with my dad." She admits and I completely understand, if I were in her position I'd do the same.

"Thanks for sharing Katniss, Next?" I look over and a small mousy looking girl with a pixie haircut and a killer jawline begins talking, "I'm Johanna and I'm in here for S.I.B. and Anger Management problems. I cut and when I do I cut deep almost to the point where I want to end it entirely but again that's only _almost_. So it's not like I'm actually suicidal."

"Thanks for sharing, now we're going to do daily check-ins starting counterclockwise from me. For new patients daily check-ins are basically were you state your goal for the day and you give me your safety level. Safety levels work on a scale of 1-10. 1 means you're not safe at all you'll feeling extremely impulsive and harmful to yourself and/or others and you feel like you cannot report to staff with your problems. 10 means you're feeling completely safe and calm, if you're feeling bad you feel comfortable reporting to staff and you are at no risk to harming yourself and/or others."

"Annie, Safety level? Goal?" Annie opens her eyes and speaks, "My safety level is 4 and my goal was to identify triggers and coping skills for my hallucinations." Enobaria nods, "and how is your goal coming along?" Annie smiles, "well I've only found two of my triggers but I've came up with a lot of coping skills. Two of my triggers are meeting new people and swimming, but my coping skills are organizing, thinking about Finnick, and singing." Enobaria gives annie a warm smile, "Thank you for sharing Annie."

"Glimmer, Safety Level? Goal?" Glimmer brushes a strand of her perfect blonde hair out of her face and begins speaking, "My safety level is ten and my goal was to work on filling out my safety plan and discharge papers." Enobaria looks taken aback. "Oh great, so when are you discharging" Glimmer smiles flirtatiously and glances over at Cato. "We had a family meeting over phone conference today and my dad is flying out from California to come pick me up tomorrow so I can live with him." Enobaria speaks again, "well I hope you have a successful discharge."

"Peeta, Safety Level, Goal?" He fidgets with his thumbs nervously and speaks up, "My safety level is 6 and my goal was to talk to my social worker about being placed in residential." Enobaria looks intrigued for some odd reason, "Why do you want to be placed in residential?" His mouth scrunches up and he talks, "because my mom abuses me too often and Its detrimental to my recovery so I don't want to be around her in my final stage of recovery, plus I turn eighteen in two months so whatever I can do to stay away from her until then." Enobaria gives him a empathetic look, "well I hope you find a way to make amends with your mother."

"Gale, Safety Level? Goal?" Enobaria asks. "7, and my goal was to find triggers for my manic episodes. My main ones are withdrawal, watching fights, and animals." "Okay I'm confused why do animals trigger you?" Enobaria asks. "When I was twelve I had a hallucination that my dog was a demon so I killed it. It still pains me to this day and I have trouble talking about it okay." "Thank you so much for your brave confession Gale," Enobaria says.

"And lastly, Cato, Safety Level? Goal?" Enobaria asks for the last time, "4 and my goal was to attend all my groups." He says but his voice is so deep you can barely hear him. "Did you accomplish your goal Cato?" He shakes his head, "I meant to but I accidently slept through S.I.B. because my one of my medications makes me severely tired."

"What medications are you on?" She inquires. "Lamictal and Abilify," he responds and she nods in understanding. "Yeah abilify tends to make people _very _tired."

"So I'm excusing the new patients from the check in because you guys didn't make goals for today but I expect you to do it tomorrow okay?" everyone nods in response. "So today's topic is going to be peer pressure and temptation would anyone like to start by telling us what they mean." Glimmer raises her hand and Enobaria acknowledges her so she can talk. "Okay so peer pressure is when you feel obligated to do something just because all of you friends or peers are doing it. Then temptation is the urge you feel to do something because you feel like you'll enjoy it."

"That's pretty much spot on, would anyone like to share their experiences with peer pressure and temptation?" Enobaria asks and Gale raises his hand. "Well basically I started smoking marijuana because everyone else was doing it, I tried it and I liked it, then I got involved with club drugs because that's what everybody else moved onto and soon enough I was addicted to Roxicodone and my life was spiraling out of control. Now I'm back on track trying to get better but needless to say peer pressure can screw up everything for you. I had college recruiters coming to my football games when I was a sophomore but now the drugs have screwed up everything and I got kicked off the team. So basically just never give into temptation because it's never worth it."

"Nice story gale, anyone else?" Annie timidly raises her hand and Enobaria calls on her. "When I was eight I went swimming with some of my friends then everyone went into the deep end and I knew I shouldn't but I did anyway and I ended up drowning and had to be revived but it was my friend Finnick who saved me and now we're dating so technically you shouldn't give into peer pressure but you might get something positive out of it." Enobaria looks like she's wanting to correct Annie but she knows it might trigger the poor schizophrenic girl or at least kill her mood and she doesn't have the heart to do it so she bites her tongue. "Any other stories?"

Glimmer starts talking without being given permission "When I was fourteen my sister who was seventeen had lost her virginity and I thought I had to too because she did so I had sex with the first guy who offered and now I regret it so badly because I can't get my virginity back. I mean it wasn't a bad experience I just wish I could've done it with someone I loved," she says and it honestly makes me reconsider my morals. I probably would have sex with a guy if they wanted to but now she really has me thinking that it'd be better to wait. I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do but the emotional side of sex is something I never really considered. I guess it's always better to wait on some things.

Enobaria then proceeds to give us a textbook worthy lecture on why you should never give into peer pressure but luckily we're saved by Brutus. "Time for dinner," he announces and I get in line with the other kids but I'm forced to stay upstairs and eat by myself because I'm on unit restriction. Or at least I though I was eating by myself until Cato sits down in the chair next to me. "Why aren't you going downstairs with the others?" I ask confused. "I'm on unit restriction because I didn't attend my groups today."

"Oh," I mutter and stare off into space. "You're pretty Clove…" he says but I didn't hear him so I just manage a, "huh?"

"Nothing," he mutters. Effie brings us food trays and the stuff on it doesn't actually look bad but I've never been one to eat much… or at all. The plate is pre-made and it has grilled chicken with couscous, there's an apple and cake on the side along with a slice of wheat bread and peanut butter. I eat all of the chicken and couscous which I surprise myself with and I take that step even further by eating my apple because I don't want to be put on meal monitoring. Cato eats my cake and bread for me, "Thanks." I tell him.

"Why are you thanking me?" he asks amused. "For eating my food?" I say and he looks taken aback. "Wait are you on meal monitoring?" he says, his voice tense.

"No," I say and he lightens up. "Okay good I don't need to get in trouble for eating your food." I roll my eyes slightly, "Oh wow, getting in trouble for eating food that's a new one."

He smiles at me and I return it. "I'm scared their going to put me on meal monitoring though. Apparently I'm underweight for my height"

"How tall are you?" he asks. "I'm Five foot Five inches," I say proudly that I've grown three inches in the past year. "How much do you weigh?" "102 pounds," I say somewhat meekly in fear that he might scold me.

"That's pretty low Clove, what are you doing? Starving yourself?" he asks and I avoid eye contact with him the entire time. "You're starving yourself?" he says with a somewhat angered tone in his voice. "Why are you doing that to yourself?"

"I just want to look nice," I say weakly. "Clove your face is absolutely gorgeous but your body isn't healthy. You need to stop starving yourself."

"You should be happy, todays the first day I've eaten a meal this big in over a year…" I mumble annoyed with him. "I'm going to eat with you every day from now on Clove and you better eat everything or I'm telling Brutus you're starving yourself then they'll give you ensure which will make you gain even more weight."

"You aren't my father Cato," I snap at him enraged at the idea that he'd even consider turning me into Brutus. "I care about you though Clove," he reasons

"Care about me? You just met me!" I yell considering how ridiculous he's being. "I want to make sure you're healthy okay, I want you to get better. You don't deserve to be hurting yourself in the way you are."

"You don't know me though, I'm fucked up Cato. I lie, I cheat, I annoy the shit out of everyone, everybody I know hates me, I'm antisocial, I cut, I break things intentionally, and I hurt myself. I don't deserve to be loved, I'm a worthless piece of shit and the only thing I deserve is my own death." He shakes his head in disbelief, "Clove you aren't thinking straight right now, you're going to get better, you deserve to be happy."

"No I don't…" I murmur. "Yes you do," he says before engulfing me in a hug. I start crying and he hugs me tighter.

"I'm going to be here for you Clove, I really just want you to quit starving yourself it isn't healthy, you're gorgeous and you don't need to be the thinnest because you never will be. It's a never ending battle with the scale and you're always going to lose. So you should quit while you're ahead okay."

Effie comes and takes our trays away, everyone else comes back up into the lounge and we all relax for a bit. People start coming for visiting hours and a beautiful boy with bronze hair shows up. He makes a beeline towards Annie and greets her with a kiss. Her mood does a one eighty and It's amazing the affect this guy has on her. I feel someone creep up behind me and stand next to me, "That's Finnick, her boyfriend; he comes to visit her every single day."

"Really? That's so sweet…" I say quietly, secretly wishing I'd have someone to come and visit me although I know that nobody will, not even my parents. "Yeah, their bond is really something special, honestly it's them who've made me regain faith in love again…" Cato says and I raise my eyebrows.

"You believe in love?" I ask skeptically and he nods. "Yeah, you have to believe in something right?" I give him a halfhearted smile, "I guess."

I go sit down at the table and begin sketching considering the fact that no one's coming to visit me. I draw a picture of a leopard, I pay attention to all of the small details all the way down to the tufts of hair under his paws. I finish the sketch and throw it in the trash can. None of my work is good enough to display so I figure what's the point of keeping all my drawings. I mean I guess I could give them away but I'm too afraid of rejection to do that so it's pretty pointless.

I draw a bunch of different patterns until I have some trippy shit I never even intended to make. I draw until the end of visiting hours then I get on one of the couches for movie time. Cato sits down next to me and I try not to be bothered by his presence but I can't help but be bothered considering how full of himself he is.

He doesn't try to pull anything which I really appreciate. "Okay so what movie do you guys want to watch, we can either watch Across The Universe or The Avengers?" Brutus tells all of us. Hands up if you want to watch Across the universe. I look around the room and five hands go up so I guess that settles it considering that there's only eight of us. Brutus puts in the movie and I try my hardest to stay awake but I fall asleep about twenty minutes into the movie.

I feel a strong hand on my shoulder and wake up to find that it's Brutus. "Clove, you can go back to your room since you haven't met with your psychiatrist yet, meaning that you don't have meds so you don't have any to take" I nod in understanding, "Thanks."

I go back to my room and do the usual night time routine. I brush my teeth then take a quick shower. I brush my hair then go to bed. I don't fall asleep quickly, as I never really do when I actually hit the sack for the night. I have racing thoughts and they don't go away for a couple of hours usually, but tonight they disappear fairly quickly so before I know it I'm off the land of nod.


End file.
